


All I Want

by CyanideDaydreams



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Comedy, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Sort of? - Freeform, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-15 21:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12328884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanideDaydreams/pseuds/CyanideDaydreams
Summary: Michael found herself pressed against the wall of her quarters, intoxicated by the taste of Georgiou’s mouth and light headed from the pressure of their bodies pressed together. She could be court-martialled for this and she wouldn’t care. She could spend the rest of her life in prison, and never tire of remembering this moment.Summary: Georgiou wants to talk to Michael about having her own command. It is not a conversation Michael wants to have.A sort of fix-it for episodes one and two of Star Trek: Discovery. (Also known as, I inserted some stuff my little shipper heart wanted to see.)





	All I Want

As Michael followed her footsteps through the sand, Georgiou finally spoke the words that had been on her mind for a long time. ‘I think it’s time we talked about you having your own command.’  
Michael kept her face carefully blank as irrational emotions clouded her brain. Had she performed her duties poorly? Had she made a mistake? Did the Captain not want her anymore? No, an offer of promotion meant she had performed well. Too well. Aware of the silence, she quickly spoke; ‘I’m grateful, Captain.’  
The strong winds of the arid Crepusculan homeworld whipped around her, and she felt sand sting against her unshielded lips. The sun was uncomfortably hot, but the water that had soaked her during the eruption from the well had only partially dried, leaving her skin clammy and sticky. Physical discomfort could be ignored, but not this gnawing dread clawing the back of her throat. She looked down, fumbling for a change of subject.  
‘Though I would be significantly more so if I thought we had any chance of returning to the ship.’ The sarcastic quip made Georgiou smile. She felt sure that Michael would accept her own command when it was offered. It was the best course of action. The universe hated waste, after all.  
‘Just keep walking, Michael!’ As she trudged through the sand, Georgiou reached deep down into her heart, found the selfish desire to keep Michael by her side, and crushed it.

Michael kept her eyes on her Captain’s boots, trying to focus her mind on the monotony of walking. It was only as the _Shenzhou_ hovered above them, clouds billowing in its wake, that Michael sneaked a look at her Captain. Georgiou wore a smile of satisfaction, but there was a glimmer of sadness in her eyes. Michael opened her mouth, but the Georgiou dissolved into atoms before she could speak.

Later that day, after Georgiou had escaped from sickbay, the Admiral demanded a full report. As expected, he thoroughly chastised her for allowing Starfleet personnel to be seen by an alien species, but was mollified by the lack of contact and the preservation of a species. As he prepared to terminate the conversation, Georgiou cleared her throat.  
‘There is one matter I would like to address, Admiral.’  
The Admiral glanced at something outside of his hologram field, presumably a chronometer.  
‘I have a few minutes, what’s on your mind?’  
‘I would like to formally recommend Commander Michael Burnham for promotion. I believe she would make an outstanding captain.’  
‘Noted, I’ll put her forward for consideration.’  
‘If necessary, I can forward her list of commendations from the Vulcan Science Academy—’  
‘There’s no need, Philippa,’ the Admiral interrupted her. ‘Commander Burnham’s record speaks for itself.’  
Yes, it did. Georgiou pulled her lips into a tight smile. ‘Yes, sir.’  
The Admiral waved absentmindedly. ‘Dismissed.’

 

It took nine days for Georgiou to corner Michael on her own. It seemed illogical to presume that Michael was avoiding her captain, and yet, she seemed to be in a deep conversation whenever Georgiou approached. A couple of times, Georgiou could have sworn that she saw Michael vanish from a room as she entered it. She had almost asked Saru for his opinion, but the image of her asking her Lieutenant Commander if her Number One was avoiding her was ridiculous. On the ninth day, spurred by mounting frustration, Georgiou took an early lunch. This allowed her to sneak up behind Michael, as she sat alone reading. Georgiou set her tray triumphantly beside her first officer’s and sat next to her. Michael looked up at her, a startled expression momentarily flashing over her face.  
‘Captain.’  
‘Michael. It feels as if I haven’t spoken a single word to you all week.’  
‘Of course not, Captain,’ Michael laughed, uneasily.  
‘Must be my imagination,’ Georgiou replied, lightly. ‘I’ve something I have to talk to you about.’  
‘Business over lunch, Captain?’ asked Michael.  
‘Yes, forgive the intrusion into your break, but—’  
Michael’s communicator whistled shrilly and she glanced at it. ‘It’s Saru,’ she frowned. ‘He says there’s some sort of malfunction with the stasis field on the cross-pollination grain experiment.’  
Georgiou sighed and waved a hand. ‘Go on,’ she said.  
‘It’s not urgent that I go, Captain, the technicians…’  
Georgiou levelled a beady eye at Michael. ‘That experiment could yield an entirely new method of growing grain in low oxygen environments, potentially eliminating famine on some planets. That is more important than us having a chat.’  
‘Yes, Captain,’ Michael squeaked, and she scurried away. 

Michael breathed a sigh of relief as she canteen doors slid shut behind her. Saru was waiting at the end of the corridor. He crooked a finger and beckoned Michael towards him. Expecting an extensive lecture, Michael approached him gloomily, but he merely gestured her to follow him into the elevator.  
‘Bridge,’ he said.  
The elevator hummed softly as it shot upwards. Saru regarded her with benign curiosity. ‘Are you going to tell me why you required me to send that message to you?’  
‘I’m sorry, Saru, I can’t tell you. But you helped me out.’  
‘Was it to help you avoid the Captain?’ he asked, shrewdly.  
Michael remained silent.  
‘Yes, then,’ Saru concluded.  
‘Aren’t you going to lecture me about wasting your time or deceiving the Captain?’ she asked, finally.  
‘No,’ Saru sighed. ‘I trust that you have a good reason to do so.’  
Despite everything, Michael smiled. ‘It’s good to know that you trust me.’  
‘Of course, I do,’ Saru snapped, shouting after Michael as she exited the lift, ‘but that doesn’t mean I agree with you!’

Two weeks later, however, Michael’s attitude had turned from cavalier to desperate. She didn’t even eat in the officer’s mess now; she merely snuck in, grabbed her lunch and left. Her excuses were fast running out, and she was sure the Captain was suspicious. Michael didn’t know if she could face the conversation yet, and found herself gloomily wondering if she was wasting her remaining time on the _Shenzhou_ avoiding the one person for whom she wished to stay.  
Lost in thought, Michael didn’t notice that Georgiou was already seated in the cafeteria. The Captain was scrolling idly through messages on a PADD and seemed oblivious to her surroundings. Michael froze, slowly turned and began to creep the other way, only to walk straight into Saru.  
‘Oh, hello—’  
‘Shush!’ Michael hissed, glancing over her shoulder. Saru’s brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth in protest, before he saw where Michael was looking.  
‘I knew it! You’re still avoiding her,’ he whispered, angrily.  
‘Just let me through!’ she whispered back, trying to discreetly dodge around him.  
Saru blocked her way. ‘Why are you doing this?’ she groaned, in exasperation.  
‘Why are you still trying to evade the Captain?’ he shot back.  
‘None of your damn business!’  
Saru narrowed his eyes, before grabbing onto Michael’s arm and marching her up to Georgiou’s table.  
‘Captain!’ he said, jovially. ‘You’re at lunch early.’  
Georgiou smiled warmly. ‘It’s been a quiet shift, so I thought I’d slip away and catch up with some messages.’  
‘Well, don’t let us disturb you!’ said Michael, discreetly trying to wrench herself away from Saru’s iron grip.  
‘Nonsense, I welcome the company,’ said Georgiou.  
‘Wonderful, we’ll all have lunch together,’ said Saru, steering Michael into a chair. ‘I’ll get our trays.’  
Georgiou returned her gaze to the PADD to finish her message and Michael shot a desperate look at Saru. Saru shot a threatening glare back, and left. Michael fidgeted as Georgiou finished up her message. As she looked up from sending it, Michael jumped to her feet.  
‘I better go help Saru!’ she said, striding away before Georgiou could reply.  
Michael jumped the queue and gripped Saru’s elbow.  
‘Listen, Saru, I’ll do anything. I’ll cover every shift you want off for the next year.’  
Saru raised a fleshy eyebrow. ‘Though I believe you are competent, I do not take shifts off.’  
‘I’ll do your paperwork.’  
‘Unnecessary, I do not mind paperwork.’  
‘I’ll agree with you for the next five arguments.’  
Saru let out a snort of laughter. ‘No, you won’t, the injustice of it would kill you.’  
Saru collected their trays, and turned to her. ‘Here’s an interesting concept,’ he remarked, ‘you could just tell me what is going on.’  
‘Nothing,’ Michael answered.  
Saru lowered his voice. ‘I’m not blind, Commander. The entire Bridge knows you’re avoiding the Captain. It’s been going on for almost a month, do you really think I haven’t noticed? Or, for that matter, that she hasn’t?’  
‘If I tell you, will you help me?’ she asked, testily.  
‘That depends on what it is, but I will endeavour to provide assistance if I can.’ 

Georgiou surreptitiously watched Saru and Michael arguing at the front of the growing queue for the food replicators. That was normal, but when Michael pulled him to one side and the two began to whisper conspiratorially, her suspicions were aroused. She had long been certain that something was going on, but if Saru was in on it, perhaps she could twist his arm and get some information. Saru was good at avoiding questions and carefully wording his answers, but was deeply uncomfortable with outright lying. As the two returned to the table, Georgiou pondered the best course of action, whilst idly listening to their argument about the ongoing diplomatic negotiations on Zeta V. She was jolted out of her thoughts as her communicator trilled with an incoming message. Realising she had spent far too long introspecting and was running late, she bid goodbye to her senior officers and disposed of her uneaten lunch. On an afterthought, she returned to the table.  
‘Saru, meet me in my quarters at 20:30. I would like your opinion on a personal matter.’  
‘Of course, Captain,’ replied Saru, upon which Georgiou left for the Bridge.  
When she had gone, Michael turned to Saru. ‘If I come up in your conversation, I would be grateful if you would not say anything about our earlier discussion.’  
Saru shifted awkwardly. ‘I am not comfortable with lying to the Captain,’ he replied.  
‘Saru, please.’  
Saru sighed. ‘I will endeavour to avoid discussing you with her, but I cannot promise anything,’ he relented. 

Unfortunately for Saru’s good intentions, the Captain seemed hellbent on discussing Michael with him.  
The Captain was sitting at her desk when Saru entered her quarters, and she fixed him with a beady eye the moment he walked in. He sat heavily, and gazed at her in resignation.  
‘What’s going on with my first officer, Saru?’ she asked.  
‘Forgive me, Captain, I can’t help but wonder if you shouldn’t be discussing that with her?’  
‘I have been trying to do that for almost a month, yet I cannot seem to spend more than a few seconds alone with her.’  
‘May I speak freely, Captain?’  
Georgiou nodded.  
‘Captain, I made a promise to Commander Burnham to try to avoid discussing this issue with you, but frankly, I believe that will cause more harm than good. So, to satisfy my obligation to her, I will merely say that there is a topic that you wish to discuss with her that she does not wish to talk about. That is why she is avoiding you.’  
‘I don’t follow.’  
‘You have recommended her for captaincy, I believe,’ Saru continued. ‘All she would say is that she does not want it, because she would prefer to stay with you.’  
Georgiou leaned back in her chair, and frowned. ‘Why not simply tell me that herself?’ she wondered. ‘This bizarre charade of avoiding me seems like a particularly illogical course of action for a woman raised on Vulcan.’  
‘I believe “love,” as your species calls it, makes humans do irrational things.’  
Georgiou looked at him, sharply. ‘Is that the word she used?’ she asked.  
Saru fidgeted. ‘No, but I… surmised it,’ he replied. ‘As much as I am loathe to speculate without solid facts, Michael Burnham is not as inscrutable as she would like to believe.’  
‘I have to talk to her,’ Georgiou murmured, as much to herself as to Saru.  
‘Yes, I believe that would be wise,’ Saru agreed.  
The two stood, and awkwardly regarded each other. The silence stretched uncomfortably, as Saru waited to be dismissed, and Georgiou tried to think of something to say.  
‘Thank you, Saru,’ she said, finally. ‘I appreciate your honesty.’ 

 

Georgiou strode towards Michael’s quarters. Finally, she thought, this damn thing is going to be resolved, one way or another. A solid month of frustration and hurt had frayed her nerves. As she knocked on the door, she realised her hands were sweating. For a decorated and accomplished Captain, such trepidation was entirely ridiculous. And yet, her palms were clammy. She discreetly wiped them on her trousers, and tried to pull herself together.  
Michael answered the door, a book in her hand. The title peeked out from between her fingers; _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_.  
‘Captain! I wasn’t expecting you…’  
‘We need to talk, Michael. And if you’re not busy with anything urgent, I’m afraid I have to insist.’  
Resignation flitted over Michael’s face.  
‘Of course, please, come in.’ Michael turned and Georgiou followed her into her room. She gestured to an armchair and Georgiou sat. Michael sat on the other one, and absentmindedly tucked her legs underneath her like a cat. She was wearing a baggy Starfleet sweatshirt in faded science blues. Georgiou peered at it curiously. ‘That’s a very old piece of Starfleet clothing, where did you get that?’  
Michael’s cheeks flushed faintly pink. ‘It’s Spock’s. He used to wear it when he was a cadet. When I was a child, I stole it from his closet the day he left for the Vulcan Science Academy.’  
Georgiou smiled. ‘That’s sweet.’  
Michael shrugged, trying to hide her embarrassment. ‘It was an illogical thing to do. I wear it now because it is comfortable. No point in discarding a useful item of clothing.’  
Georgiou did not point out the barely visible spots where the sweater had been meticulously darned many times. There was a brief, but not entirely uncomfortable silence. Georgiou broke it reluctantly.  
‘I put forward your name to the Admiral. They have offered you command of the _U.S.S Caelus_. After a training period, of course.’  
Michael considered her words for a long moment, before replying; ‘I respectfully decline, Captain.’  
Georgiou frowned. ‘Why?’  
Michael fiddled with the corner of her book. ‘My reasons are my own, Captain.’  
Georgiou worked to mask her frustration, answering calmly; ‘I am not satisfied with that response. What could possibly be the reason? You always made it clear that _Shenzhou_ was merely a stopping point on your journey.’  
‘As much as I dislike the clichéd phrasing, some things are better left unsaid, Captain. Relationships, once changed, often cannot be reverted to their previous state.’  
‘Michael, I want to speak frankly with you: I don’t understand. When I first raised the topic of captaincy, you were amenable, yet now, you refuse. We are not on the Bridge, so talk to me, please.’  
Michael’s fingers picked at the sleeve of her sweater. ‘I have grown… accustomed to being at your side. I find it preferable to captaincy.’  
‘Yes, Saru mentioned your romantic attachment to me, but I did not foresee—’  
A muscle under Michael’s eye twitched. ‘Captain, I’m sure Saru was merely exaggerating my feelings of admiration towards you. The meanings of certain words do not always translate accurately across language barriers. He obviously misread my meaning.’  
Georgiou reached out to still Michael’s fidgeting hands.  
‘Michael, I understand now. Listen, you’re young, impressionable. But your infatuation will fade, and you’ll be left with nothing but resentment and bitterness as you realise what you gave up.’  
Michael jerked her hand away, her eyes narrowing. ‘Infatuation? You think that is all this is? With respect, Captain, I have served under you for seven years, and if you think I am foolish enough to consider giving up my dreams for a mere _infatuation_ , you do me a great disservice. If it is my choice, then I will not leave your side, but if you no longer wish me to serve under you, then I will go. Though perhaps I should leave the _Shenzhou_ regardless. It is becoming too painful to be reminded daily how easy it would be for you to send me away.’  
Realising she had said too much, Michael stood abruptly and turned away, the book falling to the floor. ‘Now that I have likely damaged our relationship irreparably, I would like to be alone.’  
Georgiou stood, and picked up _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ , carefully smoothing out the pages. She approached Michael’s back and gently slipped the book into her hands. She clasped her palms against Michael’s arms, feeling the repression of minute tremors as Michael worked to keep her breathing even.  
‘Easy, Michael,’ she murmured, soothingly.  
Michael felt some of the tension drain away at her words. Georgiou was so close, Michael could feel the heat of her body through her sweater. Her breath ghosted across Michael’s neck, making her shiver. The mere inches between them felt tangible. Michael was silent, awaiting the rejection she was certain was coming. But until it did, she was going to stretch these moments out for as long as she could. This trepidation was torture, but if it meant the captain was close to her, she could bear it forever.  
Georgiou squeezed Michael’s shoulders and breathed into her ear; ‘I could never forgive myself if I let my selfishness get in the way of your future. Being a captain means sacrifice, it means always doing what is best for your crew.’  
Michael closed her eyes to contain the tears threatening to spill out.  
‘I don’t want this, Michael, but I have to do what’s best for you…’  
Michael’s eyes snapped open. She doesn’t want…? She turned to face Georgiou, and met her gaze with fiery defiance of a person with nothing left to lose.  
‘You are not doing what is best for me, Captain.’  
‘Then tell me what to do.’  
‘Kiss me,’ Michael whispered.  
Georgiou reached a gentle hand to wipe away a tear that was drying on Michael’s cheek. Michael’s lips parted, an unspoken question left hanging as Georgiou leaned in and kissed her. It was the gentlest kiss, a mere brushing of lips with a feather light touch, but Georgiou closed her eyes in guilt.  
‘I’m sorry, I—’ she began, before Michael reached outwards and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Her hands tangled themselves into Georgiou’s loose hair, as the Captain’s arms wrapped around her waist. Michael found herself pressed against the wall of her quarters, intoxicated by the taste of Georgiou’s mouth and lightheaded from the pressure of their bodies pressed together. She could be court-martialled for this and she wouldn’t care. She could spend the rest of her life in prison, and never tire of remembering this moment. They broke apart, but remained pressed close, breathing each other’s air. Michael was drowning in the giddy sensation of Georgiou’s bruising grip on her waist, her breath on her lips. Michael pressed her lips to Georgiou’s neck, and her Captain shuddered at the touch. The consequences of fraternisation had gone from her mind, and Michael burned the taste of Georgiou’s skin into her memory.  
‘Don’t send me away, Captain,’ she breathed.  
Georgiou pressed her face against Michael’s neck. ‘Such unprofessional conduct,’ she murmured. ‘How will you ever respect me as your superior officer again?’  
Michael smiled. ‘We’re not on the Bridge here, Philippa.’  
Georgiou’s soft eyes creased in worry. ‘I just hope you don’t regret this. I don’t know if I could—’  
‘Hush,’ Michael interrupted her. ‘Do not doubt my loyalty, Captain. I’d give my entire career at Starfleet for you without a second thought.’


End file.
